Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I respect JK Rowling and her extreme
talent. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my Fics. This one is my
pride and joy. Thanks to you all!!!
Severus Snape ran breathlessly down the empty hallway the contents of a bottle sloshing violently. His steps were quick and meaningful. Nothing was involuntary. He finally reached the corridor that lead into the dungeon. He ran harder now, even more determined to reach his destination. Finally he slipped into his classroom and jogged to the other side of the room. He magically opened a bookcase and entered into a room behind it.
This was the room where Severus slept, thought, read and studied. His entire existence was based on things that happened in this very room. Every order, every lesson prepared and every mournful memory.
He slumped himself heavily into a vacant armchair before the fire. He set the bottle on the table by his side and took a few deep, calming breaths. He took a handkerchief from his robe and wiped his sweating brow. He relaxed and tried to forget it all, he tried to disappear as he had always done. This was his lot in life. He was used to it. He by no means enjoyed it, but it was what he was meant to do.
Finally, after he had gained sufficient breath he stood and walked over to his hat rack. He hung up his robe, removing its' few contents; His wand, handkerchief, and a stick of chewing gum. He set those in their usual home on the mantelpiece.
He was about to walk back to his comfortable chair when he remembered that it was going to be cold tonight. He turned back to the mantle and picked up his wand. He looked at the fire and with a wave of his wand there was a loud crackle and flames burst pleasantly out of the remaining ashes. Feeling satisfied he placed his wand back on the mantelpiece and strode idly back to his armchair. He sat down and picked up the bottle. He stared at it as if he was challenging it to a duel. Finally as if giving up, he sighed and opened the bottle. He took a swig and instantly his hurtful memories subsided. Now he could rest in peace. Peace until tomorrow when he saw Harry Potter and all his terrible memories were resurrected from the dust. Oh how he loathed that boy.
* * * * *
Severus awoke with a start. He'd had the dream again. James and Sirius laughing at his greasy hair and proud posture. "You think you're so good don't you Snape?" Severus just walked by with his usual arrogant air. "Aww, what's the matter Snapie? Missed your afternoon tea?" "No, I think the only thing he's missed out on is a bath." The laughter finally died away. The sweat coated his face and ran down his chin. He was shaking and his hands were gripping the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles were white. He noticed the pain in his arm once more. It was sharper this time and cut far deeper than it ever had before.
That's when he remembered the rest of his dream. He'd had it countless times, but never quite so vividly. He had tried all sorts of memory charms to keep himself from remembering his childhood experiences. James and Sirius continually pestering him. Their meaningless banter now took the form of Voldemort. "Very good Severus. I see you've done your job. However, it has been discovered that you were conversing with a member of the ministry of magic just before you carried out your orders. This is most unnerving." "Yes, I can explain." Severus stammered. He was on one knee before the great Lord keeping a fixed eye on the ground. "Yes, I'm sure you can" Voldemort hissed "But it is no matter. Conversation of any sort between one of us and one of them is strictly forbidden. No, no, I'm afraid this can't be helped." Voldemort raised his wand. "No, my Lord, I.." Severus was cut short. 'Cruciatus!' Voldemort yelled and yellow light emitted from his wand. Severus cries of pain must have echoed for miles. He came to himself now, his chest was heaving in and out as his lungs filled and emptied. He heard the voice in his head calling him. It was that awful whispering voice that stung his very soul. It was the Dark Lord Voldemort. 'No,' Severus said out loud. He gripped his burning arm and almost yelled out 'No!' He couldn't go, not now, not ever. He'd given up that life.
Severus rose slowly from his chair. He was shaking terribly. He grabbed the bottle that was his prized possession. How primitive to depend on such a substance just to keep your sanity. The blue liquid sloshed around as Severus stumbled weakly around the left of the armchair. He walked ten paces to his bed. It wasn't what most people might expect from the coldest most formidable professor in all of Hogwarts. It was three feather mattresses piled on top of one another. There was no headboard, no footboard. His sheets were a dark plum satin and the bedcover was of the same fashion only with gold embroidery. Everything was ensured to make it very hard to wake up in the middle of the night. Severus' greatest fear was waking up alone in the middle of the night from one of his recurrent nightmares and having none of his precious elixir to calm his pounding heart.
Severus sat down on the edge of his very comfortable feather bed. He uncorked the bottle and took another gulp of the blue liquid. He swallowed hard. He was running out and soon he would need more. The potion worked most every night. It made it so the drinker had only pleasant dreams. The downside was that the potion only lasted a few hours and needed to be retaken after that. Severus placed the cork back into the bottle and set it shakily onto his nightstand. He fell back onto his many pillows and released a large breath that he'd been holding for quite some time. He closed his eyes and tried once again to forget. After several minutes he finally fell asleep.
Severus Snape ran breathlessly down the empty hallway the contents of a bottle sloshing violently. His steps were quick and meaningful. Nothing was involuntary. He finally reached the corridor that lead into the dungeon. He ran harder now, even more determined to reach his destination. Finally he slipped into his classroom and jogged to the other side of the room. He magically opened a bookcase and entered into a room behind it.
This was the room where Severus slept, thought, read and studied. His entire existence was based on things that happened in this very room. Every order, every lesson prepared and every mournful memory.
He slumped himself heavily into a vacant armchair before the fire. He set the bottle on the table by his side and took a few deep, calming breaths. He took a handkerchief from his robe and wiped his sweating brow. He relaxed and tried to forget it all, he tried to disappear as he had always done. This was his lot in life. He was used to it. He by no means enjoyed it, but it was what he was meant to do.
Finally, after he had gained sufficient breath he stood and walked over to his hat rack. He hung up his robe, removing its' few contents; His wand, handkerchief, and a stick of chewing gum. He set those in their usual home on the mantelpiece.
He was about to walk back to his comfortable chair when he remembered that it was going to be cold tonight. He turned back to the mantle and picked up his wand. He looked at the fire and with a wave of his wand there was a loud crackle and flames burst pleasantly out of the remaining ashes. Feeling satisfied he placed his wand back on the mantelpiece and strode idly back to his armchair. He sat down and picked up the bottle. He stared at it as if he was challenging it to a duel. Finally as if giving up, he sighed and opened the bottle. He took a swig and instantly his hurtful memories subsided. Now he could rest in peace. Peace until tomorrow when he saw Harry Potter and all his terrible memories were resurrected from the dust. Oh how he loathed that boy.
* * * * *
Severus awoke with a start. He'd had the dream again. James and Sirius laughing at his greasy hair and proud posture. "You think you're so good don't you Snape?" Severus just walked by with his usual arrogant air. "Aww, what's the matter Snapie? Missed your afternoon tea?" "No, I think the only thing he's missed out on is a bath." The laughter finally died away. The sweat coated his face and ran down his chin. He was shaking and his hands were gripping the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles were white. He noticed the pain in his arm once more. It was sharper this time and cut far deeper than it ever had before.
That's when he remembered the rest of his dream. He'd had it countless times, but never quite so vividly. He had tried all sorts of memory charms to keep himself from remembering his childhood experiences. James and Sirius continually pestering him. Their meaningless banter now took the form of Voldemort. "Very good Severus. I see you've done your job. However, it has been discovered that you were conversing with a member of the ministry of magic just before you carried out your orders. This is most unnerving." "Yes, I can explain." Severus stammered. He was on one knee before the great Lord keeping a fixed eye on the ground. "Yes, I'm sure you can" Voldemort hissed "But it is no matter. Conversation of any sort between one of us and one of them is strictly forbidden. No, no, I'm afraid this can't be helped." Voldemort raised his wand. "No, my Lord, I.." Severus was cut short. 'Cruciatus!' Voldemort yelled and yellow light emitted from his wand. Severus cries of pain must have echoed for miles. He came to himself now, his chest was heaving in and out as his lungs filled and emptied. He heard the voice in his head calling him. It was that awful whispering voice that stung his very soul. It was the Dark Lord Voldemort. 'No,' Severus said out loud. He gripped his burning arm and almost yelled out 'No!' He couldn't go, not now, not ever. He'd given up that life.
Severus rose slowly from his chair. He was shaking terribly. He grabbed the bottle that was his prized possession. How primitive to depend on such a substance just to keep your sanity. The blue liquid sloshed around as Severus stumbled weakly around the left of the armchair. He walked ten paces to his bed. It wasn't what most people might expect from the coldest most formidable professor in all of Hogwarts. It was three feather mattresses piled on top of one another. There was no headboard, no footboard. His sheets were a dark plum satin and the bedcover was of the same fashion only with gold embroidery. Everything was ensured to make it very hard to wake up in the middle of the night. Severus' greatest fear was waking up alone in the middle of the night from one of his recurrent nightmares and having none of his precious elixir to calm his pounding heart.
Severus sat down on the edge of his very comfortable feather bed. He uncorked the bottle and took another gulp of the blue liquid. He swallowed hard. He was running out and soon he would need more. The potion worked most every night. It made it so the drinker had only pleasant dreams. The downside was that the potion only lasted a few hours and needed to be retaken after that. Severus placed the cork back into the bottle and set it shakily onto his nightstand. He fell back onto his many pillows and released a large breath that he'd been holding for quite some time. He closed his eyes and tried once again to forget. After several minutes he finally fell asleep.